Inversion
by skyeward
Summary: Samantha loves Ashley's hair.


Sam loves Ashley's hair. She loves the rich chestnut colour, the luxuriant thickness, the scents of gun oil and standard-issue Alliance shampoo. She loves the way it slips through her fingers like silk and the way it curtains their faces when they make love, but most of all she loves the length of it.

It's just right for pulling on.

They make a pretty picture: one tall and strong with an affinity for guns and battle, the other smaller and softer, tech-minded, excelling in far less warlike pursuits. They're almost a trope, the Amazon and her lover, and sometimes Sam gets the giggles thinking of all the people who must assume they retain those roles in the bedroom.

To be fair they had, at first. Strong and weak, top and bottom, giver and receiver…the divide had seemed clear-cut, a simple extension of their public personas. Sam figured Ash would want to be in charge, so she let the soldier make the first moves. Ash thought Sam wanted her to be dominant, so she was. More false assumptions, like the ones that had nearly kept them from coming together in the first place.

Luckily it only took one slip of the hand to clear up their newest misunderstanding.

_Don't pull her hair,_ Sam told herself, teeth clenched and hips working frantically under Ashley's mouth as she slid torturously slowly towards orgasm, _don't pull her hair, don't pull her hair!_

It had been fun at first, letting the soldier push her down and make her scream, but the appeal had worn off rather quickly - if there was one place Sam was used to being in charge, it was the bedroom.

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, Sam began to crest - and all her warnings to herself flew out the window. She sank both hands into Ashley's hair, gripping handfuls of the thick locks and pulling hard. The relief of giving into her urges was almost greater than that of her release, and it took a long, silent moment before she realized what she'd done.

It took even longer before she realized that Ashley wasn't protesting. _Maybe…?_

She gave another little tug, and the breathless groan that spilled from the Spectre's throat nearly made her come again on the spot. She did it again, with the same result, and then harder - this time the groan ended with a faint, toe-curling whimper.

Sam released one handful of hair, feeling as if she operated on auto-pilot as she slowly drew the kneeling woman upwards, her now-free hand lifting Ashley's chin so she could look the other woman full in the face. Their eyes met, dark whiskey and pure mocha, and Samantha bit her lip at what she saw.

"I think," she said softly, amused despite herself, "That we need to have a talk."

"Right now?" Ash asked, and there was a distinct note of pleading in her voice to accompany her vividly dilated pupils. It sent a bolt of heat straight through Sam's body, and even if she'd been inclined to have that talk right away, she'd have shelved those plans. It had been entirely too long since she'd taken her rightful place on top.

"No," she answered, the word barely audible past the sudden lump in her throat, "No. Right now I have other plans."

She drew Ash up onto the cot with her, glad as always for her lover's foresight in acquiring a double-width camp bed with plenty of padding - it certainly wasn't Alliance issue. She nearly laughed with glee when she rolled the other woman onto her back and straddled her thighs, slipping one hand between them and drawing a strangled cry from her lover. Bending over, she reclaimed her handful of hair, resting her weight on an elbow just beside the Spectre's head so that she didn't have to relinquish her grip even when Ash began to buck and squirm beneath her.

Sam already knew her lover enjoyed the sound of her voice, so she took advantage of that as well, pressing her mouth to one pale shell and murmuring softly.

"You like that, don't you? Are you going to come for me? Just remember to be quiet, hmm?"

Ash's hands clutched needily at Sam's back, fingernails digging crescents into dark skin as the Spectre threw her head back with a breathy little cry, body arching so hard that she lifted herself and Sam clear off the bed. The specialist slowed her fingers but continued to stroke her lover relentlessly until she had wrung the last few shudders from Ash's body, reveling in her power.

"So," she murmured once they'd settled down, tangled together with only the thin sheet over them. "About that talk…"


End file.
